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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24315256">Tied Up</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moth1988/pseuds/Moth1988'>Moth1988</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sam &amp; Max</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Accidental Stimulation, Affectionate Insults, Begging, Bruises, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dominance, Kink Discovery, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Masochism, Oral Sex, Painplay, Rope Bondage, Roughness, Teasing, Tie Gag, snarkiness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:09:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,481</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24315256</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moth1988/pseuds/Moth1988</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Max pushes Sam a bit too far on a case, Sam decides to teach the guy a lesson.</p><p>I.e. Sam discovers he has a thing for seeing his husband all tied up. </p><p>(credit in the notes!)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Max/Sam (Sam &amp; Max)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>129</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Tied Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thank you to @freelancesquad on Tumblr for the wonderful suggestions and ideas! You guys are absolutely amazing and I hope you enjoy! :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>  There were gunshots, loud and blaring that bounced off of the building's walls with no particular rhythm. They echo off of the tin of the roof, then fade into the old and cracked concrete floor his pal's teetering above. He's tied from the ceiling, Roger Rabbit style. He could hear Max giggle at irony of it when he had pointed it out, dangling from the ceiling as he kicks his feet.</p><p>  "Good going, Sam!" Max chides from his place on the far side of the warehouse, struggling in his binds like any ounce of squirming would break the coarse rope. "Really doin' 'em in!" </p><p>  Sam rolls his eyes at the lagomorph swinging somewhere above him. Hard to tell where exactly the little guy's at right now, seein' as his voice is bouncing off just about every wall in here. Guy could at least try and be a little bit grateful for him busting his ass to save him right now. "Thanks, Max, <em>really</em> appreciate it!" He shouts back to somewhere above him as he takes another failed shot.</p><p>  Hell, he only knows the guy's swinging like a twitching pendulum somewhere above him right now because of the criminal showing him off earlier, using him as some warped form of bait. That, and he can hear his acute voice above while he's running after the perp, though it's difficult to tell in a maze like this one.</p><p>  His footsteps thunder off of the hard concrete and they echo in turn to the gunshots he's blaring out every other step. </p><p>  Damm, never was too good of a shot, was he?</p><p>  He skirts to a halt, aiming his gun and just barely missing the perp ahead. Can't quite see him; it's so damn <em>dark</em> in here, oughta be at least ten by now. He curses quietly to himself and presses his back flat against one of the many shelfs in the place. It's like a maze, just a vast emptiness of a typical warehouse filled only with towering shelfs full of boxes, wires, and god knows what. At least the shelf's stable, though. He thanks it for that when he rests his weight against it to catch his breath in quick gasps before he's at it again. </p><p>  "I've heard at <em>least</em> ten shots, Sam, and ya <em>still</em> haven't caught the guy?" Max laughs, and Sam briefly considers taking the time to track the guy down right now just so he can flip him off to his smug little face. He draws a deep breath inward. It shouldn't even bother him that bad, anyways, he blames his annoyance on the adrenaline pumping through his system.</p><p>  "Yeah, Max. What, is it <em>that</em> hard bein' the helpless dame?" He chuckles at the annoyed stammering he hears somewhere in the distance.</p><p>  "Who are you callin' a 'dame', Sam?" He retorts, and Sam can hear the guy's annoyance through his tone alone. It's kinda funny, honestly, how easy it is to get the guy riled up. </p><p>  "<em>I'm</em> not the one hangin' helpless from the roof, little buddy." He calls back, and he doesn't get a response this time around. He laughs. Guess Max doesn't have a quick retort for <em>that</em> one, huh? </p><p>  He runs back down the aisle, turning a sharp left and then another sharp right. Sam raises his gun, and the guy freezes, stolen goods still in hand. "Aha!" He cries out, triumphent when he takes the shot and nicks the guy just enough at his leg that he falls to the ground. He huffs, "That's what ya get for stealin', pal." He kicks the suspect's gun away from his grasping hands and pulls out his beeping cell.</p><p>  It's a pretty brief call with the Commissioner before he's locking the guy in the cuffs he keeps on his person, one on the perp's wrist and the other on one of the nearby shelfs so he doesn't get away. Hates to leave 'em, but he's he's got more of the things at home. "You'll be goin' away for a long time, buddy." He's never been too good with this part. He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, gaze drifting around the place. "Uh, whenever the Commissioner and his guys get here, don't know <em>when</em> that'll be exactly, but uh..." He shrugs, pocketing his gun. "Probably soon! Just hang tight and all that."</p><p>  With a quick two-fingered salute, he's walking back amongst the shelfs. He shudders, rubbing at his shoulders and trying to shake away the chill. Place is kinda eerie when there's no one screamin' after you. </p><p> "Max?" He calls out, eyes narrowing in the darkness as he squints vaguely above. You think it'd be easier to see a stark-white rabbit in the sky, but apparently that's not the case. He feels kinda bad for the poor guy, hovering above wherever he is. Not too bad though, especially with that smart mouth of his.</p><p>  He hears his name called back to him and he keeps walking, scanning the towering roof above him. Woof, place is a lot spacier than he first thought. "Buddy? I can't see ya, where are ya at?" </p><p>  He hears a disgruntled groan and the creaking of a rope. "Literally <em>right</em> above your head, Sam!" His pal calls out and he can't help but roll his eyes again.</p><p>  Well yeah, <em>duh</em>.</p><p>  "Thanks so much for the specifics, Max. <em>Really</em> helpin' me out here." </p><p>  Another groan. "<em>Look up!</em>" </p><p>  Sam does, and he can't help but smile and wave at the guy. Hey, it'd been at least an hour since his pal was first snatched and tied up there; Sam doesn't think Max has ever been out of his sight that long for years now. "Hey buddy! How's it hangin'?" </p><p>  He watches as Max kicks his legs helplessly, not resulting in much else besides from a small swinging motion caused by the momentum. "Reeeal funny, Sam." He huffs, clearly unamused. </p><p>  Sam can't help but giggle at him, stifling the little laugh with his hand. Not soon enough, apparently, as Max is kicking harder like he's trying to get at him from way above. "Stop laughin' at me and get me down from here!" He cries, and the force of it sort of spins him around again. Sam can't stop from laughing even harder; the sight's just too funny.</p><p>  Max doesn't seem too amused, however. "Fine, ya <em>mutt</em>, I'll do it myself!"</p><p>  Guess a guy's sense of humor kinda dwindles after hanging around for an hour or so huh?</p><p>  Sam pauses, narrowing his eyes up at his pal through the dimness of the warehouse. "What did you just call me?"</p><p>  The lagomorph glares back down at him with a biting remark. "Didn't know ya were as bad at <em>hearin</em>' as you are at <em>shooting</em>, Sam!"</p><p>  Well that <em>tears it.</em></p><p>  Oh, he'll get him down alright...</p><p>  He aims his gun just above Max's head and the lagomorph yelps. "<em>Damn</em>, Sam! I didn't mean to piss ya off enough to shoot me! I was just jokin' around!"</p><p>  He takes a shot and the rope snaps. </p><p>  Max falls with a high-pitched sort of yelping scream that has Sam chuckling even after he catches the poor guy. "I'm a 'bad shot', huh?" He mutters to the lagomorph in his arms. </p><p>  Ya know, now that he gets a better look at the guy, it's a really fascinating set-up they've got him wrapped up in. Way nicer than that oddball from T.V. had ever managed, anyways.</p><p>  It's an intricate set of knots and thin black rope; There's a series of windings that tie together down his body starting at binding his ankles together and going on upwards to his knees and thighs. Poor guy can't even shift around that much, the rope's too tight around his legs. There's even a few ropes tied around his middle, can't really do much to free himself with his hands bound like that, neither.</p><p>  Huh, it's an odd way to tie someone up, ain't it? Almost makes him wonder if the perp had practice of some sort, though nothing that instills <em>this</em> kinda skill comes to his mind.</p><p>  He sets Max down on his feet, and the lagomorph just looks up at him.</p><p>  It's pretty cute, actually, seeing him all bound like this with pretty much no possible way to get out of this little predicament of his without Sam's help. </p><p>  This ain't the first time Max has had to play the damsel in distress, certainly the first time in awhile, though. "C'mon, what're you waitin' for? Untie me, Sam!" </p><p>  He swallows back the feeling in his gut, making his face hot and his paws twitch.</p><p> Ain't that just <em>sick</em>? Gettin' off on seeing his pal so helpless and tied up so neat? </p><p>  Shuffling so he's behind him, Sam starts inspecting the knots that wind their way across his pale back. There's this particular winding of rope that's keeping his thighs together, and as he looks a bit closer at the odd display Sam starts to laugh again, much to Max's audible dismay.</p><p>  Sweet <em>Jesus</em>, they've even managed to avoid his poor puffy tail with the criss-cross of the ropes, though they've managed to draw attention to it in the process.</p><p>  They were very... <em>detailed</em>, to say the least.</p><p>  Looks like it took time, he wonders if they did it while his pal was knocked out. The sicko did kind of just disappear with him for an hour or so after his little buddy had disappeared from his side halfway into the case.</p><p>  Sam's not a jealous guy by any means, but the thought of anybody being up-close and personal enough to tie Max up in such intricate knots has a growl rumbling deep in his throat.  </p><p>  "<em>Saaaaam</em>," Max whines, and wiggles his hips in this way that has Sam's eyes drawn straight to his backside. "This ain't the most <em>comfortable</em> thing ever, can ya stop ogglin' and get me outta this?"</p><p>  Max cranes his neck to look Sam who's fiddling with the knots at his back, not taking too much notice of the particular look on his face as he stares down at his tail that begins to twitch in agitation. "What're ya waitin' for? Come <em>on</em>, Sam! I've been here for hours, ya know how I hate stayin' still for so long!"</p><p>  Sam does, definitely, but he can't help it when his eyes are drawn to just about everywhere besides Max's eyes. It's kind of fun to watch him get so red.</p><p>  "Maybe if ya beg me to, Max." He crosses his arms over his chest. He can't help it, it's a hell of a lot of fun to see his pal get so ruffled. "C'mon, ya gonna <em>beg</em> me, pal? Ask nicely?"</p><p>  Max just glowers at him, and Sam crosses over to face the guy again. "Damn it, Sam! Just untie me! Ain't that hard!" He snaps, squirming against the bindings that press into his soft and bruising skin. He <em>almost</em> feels bad for him, flushing as brightly as he is. Can't imagine it's not a humbling situation to be in.</p><p>  Sam watches as Max's eyes widen. That's pretty cute, watching his cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink. "If it's so <em>easy</em>, how 'bout I just let ya get yourself out?"</p><p>  Sam kneels down to get a closer look at the intricate bindings, knowing his little buddy isn't going to be going anywhere anytime soon in the state he's in.</p><p>  The place is dark, but Sam's eyes slowly adjust to it when he squints at the littering of bruises along Max's body. His pal didn't receive <em>too</em> bad a beating this time around, a cut here or there and a good variety of purplish bruises littering down his body, but nothing too concerning. He's got a pretty sizeable bruise on his cheek, probably the blunt of the hit that knocked him out hard enough to be tied up like this in the first place. He winces at the thought, thumbing over the bruise lightly and watching with stifled concern when his pal shivers underneath the touch.</p><p>  Does it hurt <em>that</em> bad?</p><p>  All around, his pal's not in too bad of shape, though he's just about fuming with Sam's refusal to untie him straight away. Sam can't say he <em>blames</em> him, really. Max has never been someone who likes to be stationary for too long, says it makes his skin crawl.</p><p>  Sam tugs at the rope around his hips, chuckling to himself at the give; his little pal's <em>soft</em>, and there ain't no shame to it, but he can see the way the ropes dig into his skin, drawing attention to the rounder parts of his figure. </p><p>  It's cute. </p><p>  He traces his thumb across his stomach and Max shudders at the delicate touch with a small sound of discontent made in the back of his throat. </p><p>  It's goddamn adorable, always liked the pudginess of his buddy's figure. Guess he ain't too <em>subtle</em> in his gawking, either, judging from the way his pal's gasping like he drew the breath itself from him. He's <em>sensitive</em>, and it's pretty clear when he's nearly trembling when Sam's just testing the rope's tauntness.</p><p>  Can't help lookin' at him the way he does; guy's a sight to behold, especially wrapped up all pretty like this.</p><p>  He's gotta admit, his pal looks pretty damn nice in a get-up like this one. </p><p>  Max squirms underneath his gaze. "Why're ya lookin' at me like that? Ya <em>know</em> I can't untie this myself, Sam!"<br/>
  <br/>
  Sam just smiles at him, stroking at the blooming bruise on Max's cheek with a feather-light touch as he watches his face burn brighter. Poor guy looks absolutely flustered; what a sight for sore eyes.</p><p>   Sam stands back up. "Think I might keep ya tied up for a little while."</p><p>    "Okay, okay, <em>maybe</em> I deserve that, Sam." He sighs impatiently. "Now c'mon, McGruff, would ya just untie me?"</p><p>  Sam stills at the name and then just smiles deviously at him, arms crossed. Yeah, he's definitely made up his mind. "Heh, I think ya look cute like this, pal." Max just eyes him, face flushing helplessly as Sam looks at him. "Kinda like ya all tied up and helpless, it's a good look on ya." </p><p>  "Oh haha, <em>very</em> funny, Sam. Make a fool outta me, I get your angle." He laughs dryly, and winces as Sam brushes past a particularly deep cut near his hip with a wandering hand that rests on his backside as he glares up at him. Doesn't seem to help Max all too much, blushing at the gesture. "Now come <em>on</em>, Sam, I'm not jokin' around here..." His voice trembles just slightly, and Sam notices the way he gnaws at his bottom lip, like he's nervous.</p><p>  He takes a good look at him, ears floppy and face so flushed it almost glows. Max glares at him, eyes narrowed and tone soft. "Sam, <em>please</em>." </p><p>  He glances down, hand muffling his little giggle of surprise and Max grumbles at him in response. Tail's twitching worse than a caught rattlesnake.</p><p>  Heh, can't say he knew Max was so affected by bein' taunted. Or maybe it's the ropes, the fact that they're only irritating the already forming bruises on his thighs, the place where they pinch the most. Hell, maybe it's a bit of both, Max always did have a bit of a masochistic side to him. "Ohh," He chuckles, and can't help the teasing hilt to it. "<em>That's</em> interestin'."</p><p>  Max just glares at him in response. "I can't exactly <em>help</em> it, Sam. Ain't <em>my</em> fault ya won't untie me."</p><p>  "Heh, why so red, pal? Somethin' the matter?" He teases, and watches with barely stifled satisfaction as the guy just huffs and glares at him. He's redder than anything Sam's ever seen, that's for sure, making these quite little pants and whines underneath his breath when he squirms in the bindings.</p><p>  His face falls a bit in concern, though he doesn't think Max can see it. He's just kidding around, doesn't mean anything bad by it. He's not hurt badly, is he? </p><p>  Max's breathing kind of weird, the ropes can't be <em>that</em> uncomfortable, right? </p><p> "I'm <em>fine</em>, Sam, these things are just kinda tight."</p><p>  "Yeah? Let me help ya with that, little buddy." The ropes encompassing his sides seem the tightest, and he can't stop himself from pulling at the ropes hovering a<br/>
just above his pelvis and rubbing the tender skin underneath. It ain't too bad, nothing that'll harm him in the long-run, past the bruises that'll fade eventually. He's got a few cuts and scrapes here and there, but nothin' that'll scar.</p><p>  Max whimpers quietly, and Sam doesn't miss the way he presses his thighs together even tighter than they already are. Right below where the rope bites into his skin, just at his hip bone Sam thumbs at a particularly nasty bruise. He watches the little guy's knees buckle, leaning against his side for stability and making a low whining sound in his throat. He mumbles, so quietly that Sam almost can't hear him. "Sam, <em>please</em> don't tease me." </p><p>  Sam pauses.  </p><p>  Ah, so <em>that's</em> it. </p><p>  Y'know, it started as a joke, he just wanted to rile him up a bit, just to get back at him for being so <em>snide</em> earlier. But when he's level to about his stomach, just a bit below it, he gulps hard. </p><p>  Maybe he's a bit... <em>dense</em>. Okay, yeah, <em>probably</em> should have realized by how red Max's face is and how low his ears have dropped; but he thought the guy was just embarassed! </p><p>  Guess there's a downside to not wearing clothes, huh? Kind of makes it uh, <em>obvious</em>. He can't exactly cover his shame with his hands bound behind his back, either.</p><p>  He thinks briefly about untying him, pretending like he didn't see a thing and just driving the two of them home in an awkward, horrible silence. </p><p>  But damn, Sam can't deny the things his pal's little huffs and whines are doing to him right now.</p><p> It's <em>way</em> too fun to hear him beg like that, words so sweet when he was so snarky just moments before.</p><p>  "Mhm, just makin' sure ya didn't sustain any serious injuries, pal." He laughs, and watches as Max's tail twitches behind him.</p><p>  Max huffs, voice shaky and tone dripping with clear doubt. "<em>Sure</em>, Sam."</p><p>  Poor guy's breathing deep at this point, labored and puffing as his face flushes pink when Sam applies pressure to another bruise at his side and he practically mewls in response.</p><p>  Sam stands back up, just taking in his pal's sudden flush and floppy ears. </p><p>  "Heh, think ya just look a bit too <em>pretty</em> to be untied just yet. Think I wanna keep ya there for a lil' bit, all tied up and cute like that."</p><p>  Max grins up at him nervously, flushing and straining against the rope. "Ya can't be <em>serious</em>, Sam..." He can see the corners of his mouth twitch. "Are ya...?" </p><p>  He lets out a little squeak when Sam's hoisting him into the air and over his shoulder. Max yelps, wiggling indignantly. </p><p>  "Sam! Oh, <em>come on</em>, I didn't mean what I said about your aim! It ain't that bad!" He giggles. "Okay, <em>maybe</em> it is but--"</p><p>  "Be <em>quiet</em>, Max."</p><p> The firm tone has him shutting up pretty quick. </p><p>  He's thrown rather unceremoniously in the backseat, door slamming shut behind him. He manages to sit up in the middle of the seat with am annoyed groan.</p><p>  "Ow, Sam!" He whines. "Be <em>careful</em> next time, would ya? And why the backseat?"</p><p>  Sam just laughs, adjusting the mirror while he starts the car so he can look his pal in the eye while he drives. He's absolutely seething, face flushed as red as a tomato when he glares at him through the mirror.<br/>
  <br/>
  "Don't want ya to distract me," He shrugs casually. "Now can ya hush up? I need to focus on drivin'."</p><p>  Max groans, wiggling and squirming like that'll do anything to loosen the series of knots and rope tied at his back. "Sam! <em>C'mon</em>, pal." He watches as Max rubs his thighs together, a little groan making it's way out from the back of his throat. He's desperate already, just from a some light touchin' and some tight rope. It's pretty amusing, honestly. "Ya really gonna get me all worked up like that and just leave me here?" Sam stays silent. </p><p>  "<em>Please</em>, Sam," He whines. "I'll do anything. Ya want me to beg ya? I can do that, I'll beg ya till my voice gives out." He pauses, and groans when he realizes Sam ain't gonna answer him no matter how he begs. "Please? Come on, ya know ya want to..." </p><p>  "<em>Daddy</em>," Max whines, and it comes out pathetic and shaky, but he bets that his pal's so desperate that he doesn't even care. Hell, Max knows only to resort to that kinda name at only the most desperate of times. The little whine has him just about halting in the middle of the road. "Please?" He whimpers. </p><p>  Sam just remains silent, biting at his tongue to do so.</p><p>   "This is <em>cruel</em>, Sam! Come <em>on</em>, I only insulted ya a little bit!" He cries, and Sam almost misses the little whimpering of; "just let me go <em>please</em>," It's so desperate, so shaky that he's tempted to do just about anything the guy asks of him. It always hard to say no to him.</p><p>  He's startin' to sweat; it ain't easy keeping yourself composed when your partner's absolutely losing it in the backseat. Especially when it's a guy like Max, particularly skilled at pushing his buttons. Max makes one of those noises he knows Sam loves so much, but he doesn't break and remains quiet, as difficult as it is. </p><p>  He's gotta teach Max a lesson <em>somehow</em>, after all.</p><p>  It's relatively quiet for a minute or two, the drive home actually fairing on peaceful before he hears this low and heady moan coming from the back of the car and his ears perk. </p><p>  Oh, that little bastard <em>better not be</em>...</p><p>  He whips around, catching Max in the act of rutting up shamelessly against the seat's interior. The sight infront him is dizzying and makes his heart do little flips, sure, but his baby's interior has gone through so much in the past few years and he's not having his friend's spunk stain her seats.</p><p>  "Max, stop that, you're gonna mess up the interior." </p><p>  Max just grins hazily at him, hips rolling intoxicatingly, and it has him gulping down the lump in his throat at the sight. "But, <em>Sam</em>--"</p><p>  Sam growls, low in his throat and snarls at him. "I said, <em>STOP THAT</em>."</p><p>  Max freezes, and he's gone back to sitting relatively still on the seat when he mumbles his retort under his breath. "Jeez, Sam, yessir."</p><p>  Sam averts his attention back to the road. Well, relatively so, he can't stop himself from glancing at the mirror and watching as Max just screws his eyes shut and bites at his lower lip. </p><p>  Heh, is it messed up to admit he kind of enjoys seein' him in a bit of pain? He glances back to the road, fingers thumping against the wheel in thought.</p><p>  Nothin' radical, of course...</p><p>  Just hearin' those strained little cries of his poor little husband and watching those bruises form beneath the rope, hearin' that smart mouth of his only be able to moan his name so shamelessly in whines and whimpers. The thought of it has him straining against his fly. He gulps and paws at it with one hand, the other making sure they don't crash and burn in a ditch. He glances up at the mirror and eyes the lagamorph behind him, hoping the guy can't see him fiddling around.</p><p>  He swallows back a low groan, doesn't really want to risk giving Max the upper hand here. It's just too satisfying to see him squirm and cry like he does so nicely. His baby's just too <em>skilled</em> at it, like he was made for rolling his hips so perfectly and moaning as sweet as he does. He tugs at his collar with a hard gulp, eyes back on the road. </p><p>  Finally, after another ten minutes of stifling heat in the car, they've arrived back at the office.</p><p>  Luckily for the both of them, no one's lurking in the street's tonight; and even if they were, it's too dark out and the flickering streetlights hardly do a thing to pierce through it. </p><p>  He's quick to swing the passenger door open and hoist the guy up. "<em>Really</em>, Sam? You're gonna do <em>this</em> again? Makes ya look like you're a serial killer." Sam just pats him firmly on his behind, eliciting a little gasp and signature snicker. "<em>Someone's</em> gettin' foxy tonight, huh, Sam?"  </p><p>  Sam just growls at him again, voice low and teetering on threatening. "Quiet, you."</p><p>    When they get inside the office, he yanks out a wooden chair from some hidden corner and sets the lagamorph ontop of it. </p><p>  Sam leans in close to his partner, so much so that their noses are practically touching. "If ya even so much as move an inch off of that chair, I'm not gonna touch ya for the rest of the night and I <em>swear</em> I'll leave ya tied up there." </p><p>  He leans back, smiling at the Lagomorph that gapes at him with wide, blinking eyes. "Got it?" </p><p>  Max nods and grins up at him. He pats him on the shoulder. "'Kay, good bunny, just sit there for a sec'."</p><p>  They don't want him wiggling around too much, do they? Don't want him to slip out of that old chair, neither. </p><p>  After scrambling around for a moment or two in his seemingly endless desk drawer, he's exclaiming in quiet triumph and pulling out another rope.</p><p>  Okay, it ain't what you think. He's not some sick freak who spends his spare time tying people up, they just keep it around the place for various perps and crooks alike. For <em>emergencies</em>. It comes in handy more often than you'd think. </p><p>  He's got some experience, minor and definitely not whatever the hell kind of past the guy in the warehouse had to tie his buddy up so intricately, but Sam puts his experience in tying up criminals to work and makes sure Max is flush with the chair. Ankles, especially, but he doesn't neglect his middle or his thighs either. Sam ties the knots as tight as he can, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth when he focuses on the smoother material. Heck, he'd probably pay the guy some slack and wrap him with the nicer stuff if he didn't think he'd somehow mess somethin' up. </p><p>  Besides, he looks too pretty in the complex knots as they are.</p><p>  Maybe he's got a bit of a cruel streak in him, because he kinda just steps back and watches the guy squirm for a second, just admiring his work.</p><p>    "C'mon, I'm dyin' over here." Max's voice shakes just slightly, a little whimper breaking him off when he stutters his hips in vain.</p><p>  Sam steps forward, watching as Max gulps. "Really? <em>Dyin</em>', huh?" He yanks at his tie, tugging it off of him and wrapping the material around Max's pretty little mouth, efficiently gagging him. "What a damm shame that is, ain't it?"</p><p>  It's muffled, but Sam can hear the guy mumbling something into the make-shift gag, swears he hears him saying something smart so he tugs on one of those soft ears of his, and he's not too gentle about it, neither. "What was that, pal? Couldn't hear ya."</p><p>  He's got some experience in the interrogation department, usually he isn't as hard as he is <em>now</em> during those, but it's not too different of an act. Besides, the guy's kind of getting on his nerves with his smart-ass attitude. He watches as Max gulps hard and whimpers behind the fabric. </p><p>  "Now, pal, ya gonna stop bein' a little minx and play nice?" He smiles, satisfied when Max just nods at him and whines. "Heh, good, little buddy. Was hopin' you'd say that."</p><p>  Sam would swear his pal's never looked so nice, desperate tears gathering in his eyes when he strains against the inky rope and looks up at him with a pleading expression.</p><p>  The detective kneels down between his legs, looking up at Max and smiling at him. His little buddy just looks back at him, chest heaving as he bites into the material, watching with keen eyes as Sam thumbs at the stark bruises on his hips.</p><p>  The bruises are just about darkest there, asides from the ones on his flushed face. Sam watches Max's expression intently when he applies a firm pressure to one of the lesions. </p><p>  Max cries out, loud and high-pitched as he squirms just about as well as he can with how tight the ropes are. His sound comes out in a keen moan, and it looks like he's attempting to shuffle his thighs together when he does so. Keyword; <em>attempting</em>. Sam's got him down so tight that he can hardly move, and he hears him groan in dismay under the gag. </p><p>  Sam almost feels bad for the poor fella, whimpering and whining as he presses into the bruises and doing his absolute best to stutter his hips. He can hear him underneath the gag, begging him so sweetly like his life depends on it; <em>"Sam, please, fuck, it feels so fuckin' good. Pleaaaase, I can't take it anymore."</em></p><p>  Sam ain't <em>cruel</em>. Well, not <em>that</em> cruel, anyways, he doesn't wanna make the poor guy cry and he looks real near it when Sam glances up at him with his hands just barely trailing at his sides and making the poor guy tremble at the barely-there touch. </p><p>  Sam soothes at the sore skin underneath the binds around his middle. "You're doin' good, bunny, just be patient." Max relaxes a bit underneath the soothing administrations, and Sam gives him a firm pat on the thigh before he eases himself off of the ground and listens to Max's shaky groans as he walks away. </p><p>  Sam's not gone for long though, hardly stepping away from the guy when he grabs a knife from his desk and Max pales. </p><p>  "Damm, Max, I'm not gonna <em>hurt</em> ya, calm down." He chuckles, and Max just nods at him, eyes still trained on the knife in his hand. "Stay still, okay, little buddy?"</p><p>  Back on his knees, he very carefully cuts at the layers of rope that keeps Max's thighs together. Heck, he just now notices how deep the indents are when the rope falls away and Max moans in relief. "<em>Damm</em>, pal..." He trails in restrained disbelief, hands dutiful and tender as he kneads at the soft skin. Max is whimpering like a kicked puppy, but he doesn't look to be in too bad of pain when he attempts to rub his thighs together and makes little whining sounds into the fabric. </p><p>  Poor buddy, he can't help but feel a knot of guilt in his stomach. Sure, it's absolutely <em>intoxicating</em> to see the guy squirm and cry his name, but he can't stand seeing the guy bruised and beaten so badly. He resolves to pull out some bandages whenever they're through with this, and that makes Sam feel a bit better as he pushes the thought to the back of his mind.</p><p>  Gently, he cuts the rope around his hips and calves. Thinks he'll keep the one around his ankles, though; they don't look nearly as tight and Max is just too alluring when he's all tied up. He soothes at the indents at his hips, trying his best to be as gentle as he can be. Sam hears a deep, rumbling purr from behind the gag and he smiles up at him. "That feel nice, pal?" </p><p>  Max just nods, and purrs even harder as his eyes flutter shut when he pulls his knees apart, not being able to keep himself from teasing the guy just a tad more as he thumbs at the bruised indents left from the rope along his soft thighs. "You're doin' so well, baby." He rasps, pressing a kiss to the harsh contusion and stroking at the softness of the thin skin at the innermost part of his thigh. "Told ya I'd make ya feel nice if you just waited, didn't I?" He chuckles when Max nods vigariously and his thighs twitch, like he's just about holding back from snapping them shut around him. "Heh, <em>good</em> boy." He mutters when he doesn't, holding them open around his head.</p><p>  It's damn hard to keep himself cool when the guy's so nicely presenting himself like that, all flushed and begging him so sweetly. </p><p>  Max rolls his hips and lets out a trembling sigh when Sam strokes at the fur on his stomach, just above his twitching prick. Theres a string of rope still there, pressing into Max's middle and only bringing greater attention to what's straight below it. Sam can't help himself when he growls low in his throat; it's dark and sweet this time around when he stares adoringly up at his poor husband, sitting there so obediently. "You're <em>stunnin</em>', Max, just beautiful..."</p><p>  Max just blinks at him, but he can see him smile from behind the thin material of the gag. Makes his head spin, honestly, but he ain't gonna make the guy wait any longer than he already has. He's firm when he grabs him by his bruised hips, rubbing patterns into the lighter of his contusions when he leans forward to kiss at the tip. He feels Max's hips stutter into the chair, a tiny gasp elicited from beneath the gag. Max ruts his hips forward and he wiggles into wood beneath him when Sam finally takes him into his mouth.</p><p>  Sam ain't gonna lie, he's not the most <em>experienced</em> in this particular department. Usually Max is the one wanting to dish out this sort of thing, but he's not going to deny that he enjoys it. </p><p>  Ah, hang on, though...</p><p>  He pulls back with a small popping sound, making his poor guy squirm impatiently in his seat. "Hang on, pal." He soothes, pulling the knife back out again and cutting the thin ropes around his ankles. "There we go, better positionin' this way." He reasons quietly, hitching Max's pale legs up in firm hands to get a better view and having him prop them up on his shoulders. Max wraps them around his neck, scooting closer to the edge of his chair as Sam leans in. "<em>That's</em> it, baby, there ya go..." He encourages gently, before he's taking him back into his mouth without much hesitation. </p><p>  Max wiggles in his chair, high-pitched keens falling past the gag as Sam licks at him from inside his mouth, tongue lolling out and eyes lidded when he pulls back and looks up at Max. </p><p>  Hell, if he's drooling that bad past his gag he must be doing <em>somethin</em>' right, huh? </p><p>  He doesn't pause for long, it's hard to do so when Max is squirming and bucking so badly. He squeezes at his sides, holding him down firmer against the chair by his hips. Without another word, Sam licks at his leaking prick again. Huh, <em>sweeter</em> than he thought it'd be. Probably because just about the only thing Max eats is sweets.</p><p>  Sure, it ain't <em>healthy</em>, but he's not gonna complain right now about it, especially when it makes him taste so good.</p><p>  He takes advantage of that though, licking teasingly at the tip and watching as Max squirms. He chuckles; guy's just so <em>impatient</em>, it's definitely amusing to watch him groan in frustration behind the gag. It's even better that he can't use his hands to push Sam forward.</p><p>  With another soft lick, he's taking him back fully in his mouth again. His pal's <em>small</em>, it ain't hard. He'd never say that to his face, though, doesn't want to bruise his ego too badly.<br/>
 <br/>
  Max wiggles in his grip, gasping and groaning behind the cloth in his mouth in small and whining pants. </p><p>  Sam hums around him, a small chuckle when a hand wanders behind Max and flicks the pad of his thumb against his puffy tail. </p><p>  He grins around him when Max bucks particularly hard and he hears a muffled curse, rolling his hips helplessly when Sam squeezes at the fluff ball.</p><p>  He can feel the guy tensing, hips rolling steadily against him when he toys with it. It's soft, outrageously so when he squishes it with two fingers and he and hears Max keen loudly, and he's still licking and sucking on him despite how unfamiliar he is with the whole act.</p><p>  Seems to be doing well <em>enough</em> though, tellin' by just how loud his little buddy is getting. He pulls back, reaching up to fiddle with the knot tied around the back of Max's head. He yanks the make-shift gag off of him, throwing it to the side and smashing his mouth into his pal's. </p><p>  Max moans into it, hips still wiggling despite himself. </p><p>  Sam takes the hint, pulling back and smiling at his dizzying expression as he kneels down between his legs again and takes him into his mouth. </p><p>  Max is babbling now, taking advantage of the sudden freedom to do so. "<em>Shit</em>, <em>Sam</em>, <em>ahh</em>," He groans, squeaking when Sam has to hold his hips down again with a firm squeeze. "Fuck, <em>baby</em>," Max groans with a delirious little laugh.  "Ahh, you're <em>so</em> fuckin' <em>good</em> at this."</p><p>  Sam hums with delight, movements steady as he sucks him off.</p><p>  Max tenses once more, squirming continuously underneath his firm hands and bucking his hips forward again. "I'm, <em>ah</em>," He groans, rolling his hips "I'm <em>close</em>, Sam, ya might wanna--" Sam pulls back and just barely avoids getting cum in his eye. </p><p>  Max arches his back against the chair, toes curling behind Sam's head from their place around his shoulders when he cries out. It's <em>loud</em>, and Sam only briefly regrets taking off the gag when he remembers that they're in a complex full of various neighbors. <em>That</em> and he thinks the window may be open beneath the blinds. It's only momentarily, though, because the sound of Max practically screaming his name isn't somethin' he'd give for the world.</p><p>  He wipes at his face, soothing at a particularly nasty lesion on his thigh when Max cums, comforting him through it with soft words. "It's alright, baby, I got ya."</p><p>  When Max comes down from it and slumps back against the chair, Sam takes the opportunity to reach around the small guy and cut the rest of the bindings. </p><p>  Max flexes his hands back to commission, smiling a tired grin at him and wrapping his newly freed arms around Sam's neck after Sam helps him bring his legs back down.</p><p>  He can't help but chuckle when he realizes Max is purring again, low and sweet as he nuzzles and kisses at Sam's neck lazily. "That was <em>fun</em>, Sam." He giggles, and Sam kisses a bruise on his shoulder in return. </p><p>  "Heh, glad ya thought so pal," He pauses, relishing in the comfortable silence for just a moment. "Wasn't too rough, was I?"</p><p>  Max breaks away, sudden vigor when he shakes his head with an unwavering grin. "Nah, Sam! Never been harder in my life! Ya did <em>great</em>, pal!" He kisses briefly at the corner of his mouth, and Sam's reminded of the sorry state of his partner when he eyes his wounds.</p><p>  "<em>Shit</em>, Max," He mutters, and Max just cocks his head. "You're really beatin' up, aren't ya? Hang on, pal..." </p><p>  Sam carries him over to the couch, sitting him down and leaning down briefly to smooch his forehead. Max giggles at him, cheeks still a pale pink when he does so. He's got a feeling that won't be fading for awhile. "I'll be <em>fine</em>, Sam! Don't worry about it!" He tries, but it's not so convincing to Sam as he looks him over.</p><p>  God, he <em>swears</em> the guy's more purple and pink than he is <em>white</em> at this point, and he really isn't liking the look of the small cuts across his skin.</p><p>   He whistles. "<em>Damn</em>, Max, that doesn't hurt?"<br/>
  <br/>
  Max shakes his head with a casual shrug. "Eh, not really. I'm fine, Sam! Just <em>sit down</em>, don't worry about it!"</p><p>  Still, Sam's pacing back to the closet and pulling out their half-assed attempt at a first-aid kit. There's some salve, bandages, gauze; the usual. He hefts it onto his desk, digging through it and gathering a couple of things while Max just watches him and continues to assure him he's '<em>just fine</em>'. He ignores him; Max doesn't have the <em>best</em> reputation for self-preservation.</p><p>  It doesn't stop Sam from kneeling on the ground again, holding one leg in his hand as Max huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. "Ya don't gotta worry about it, Sam." He continues, rolling his eyes at him like it'll deter Sam from patching it up. "It'll heal on it's own!"</p><p>  Sam chuckles, scooping up some of the creamy salve onto his fingertips and rubbing gingerly at the indents on his ankles. Max lets out a quiet sigh and Sam just laughs in amusement as his buddy relaxes underneath his paws. "Feel's good, huh?" His pal nods with a little huff.</p><p>  "Okayyy, <em>maybe</em> you were right." He mumbles, and Sam can't help but chuckle and lean up a moment to kiss him on his cheek.</p><p>  "You're still pink, Max," He teases. "It's a good color on ya!"</p><p>  Max frowns half-heartedly down at him, Sam steadying his legs as he applies the salve. "Not <em>my</em> fault, Sam." <br/>
 <br/>
  Sam laughs, pressing a small and affectionate kiss to his knee. "Yeah, guess it's mine, ain't it?"</p><p>  Max giggles and pats at his face. "Yep! Hehe, good dog." </p><p>  Sam rolls his eyes, probably would complain about the term if Max wasn't so beaten up. </p><p>  He swears he's wincing harder than his little buddy is, and he's not even the one having his wounds pawed at. "I'm sorry ya got so hurt, Max, I shoulda been more careful."</p><p>  Max shakes his head with a little laugh. "Wasn't your fault, Sam!" He bites his lip with a little wince when Sam starts bandaging the worst of the lesions. "<em>Ah, damn</em>," </p><p>  Sam reaches up, grabbing Max's twitching paw and lacing their fingers together. "Sorry, pal, I'll try to be quick." He assures with a hushed tone when he's applying some type of antibiotic to the deepest cuts. Max squeezes at his hand and his stomach turns. When it's not in an... <em>intimate moment</em>, he can't stand to see his little buddy in pain. Makes his heart hurt, but it ain't gonna stop him from patching him up. "Hang in there, almost done..."</p><p>  Max remains pretty quiet, nodding slowly at him and biting at his lip. </p><p>  After bandaging the worst of it, and once he's absolute sure the guy's not gonna get any infections, he stands up with a groan and pops his back. "Gettin' too damm old to be on my knees for that long." </p><p>  Max grins up at him and snickers. "Heh, <em>I'd</em> say you did just fine, Sam!"</p><p>  "Shut up, Max, didn't mean it like <em>that</em>." He chides. "Now scoot over."</p><p>  Max does so happily, and he plops onto the couch with a tired groan. He welcomes the lagomorph that crawls into his lap with open arms, wrapping them around his partner and pulling him in close, relaxing when he hears the soothing purrs that rumble against his chest. "Tired, pal?"</p><p>  Max nods into him, arms wrapping around his neck as the guy purrs lazily again his shoulder. "My body feels like..." Max thinks it over for a second, giggling as Sam strokes at his back. "<em>Jello</em> or somethin', I dunno." He drawls, his exhaustion drawling his New York accent thick.</p><p>  Sam chuckles, massaging senseless patterns in-between his shoulder blades. His pal's purring kicks up a notch and he can't help but snicker. "Ya sound <em>adorable</em>, Max."</p><p>  His pal just smiles into his neck. "Yeah? Thank ya, Sam, that's sweet of ya." Max drawls slowly, words slurring slightly. And then he's out, snoozing quietly in his lap.</p><p>  Sam just smiles, eyelids growin' heavy himself when he holds him close against his chest, soft puffs of breaths warm against his neck. </p><p>  He knows he should move the guy, maybe place him in a more comfortable bed or somethin' of that likeness, but he really doesn't feel like moving at all. Besides, he doesn't want to risk waking him when he looks so peaceful. </p><p> He places a kiss to his cheek with a smile, getting comfortable and kicking back on the couch, making sure the guy's secure in his arms before he's drifting off. "G'night, little buddy, sleep well."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It was a bit difficult to write Sam so differently than I usually do but it was a hell of a lot of fun and I really hope it all came together in the end haha! This was super fun to write and I hope I did the suggestions I was given justice! </p><p>Thank you for reading! :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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